Chapter One: For Your Consideration

Tony was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Which was, he thought with a bitter twist of his lips, the understatement of the year. Over the past three months things had seriously began to fall apart for the former CEO of Stark Industries. At the age of 31 he had been at the helm of his father's company for nearly a decade. It was a sad start, to be sure, taking over a multi billion dollar company after both his parents were tragically killed in a car accident. But the young Stark had managed to do it in stride. To some he was America's golden boy, but most people considered him a playboy. He drank too much, he partied too hard, he was too wild and unpredictable. His early twenties had been a string of bad press. When he wasn't making a splash across the headlines with his latest scandals, he was buried in work.

Work that he had to keep his involvement in a complete secret. There were a few reasons, decided upon by both Howard and Obie years ago, but the fact of the matter was that Tony Stark was an Omega. Omegas, he had been told since the time he was knee high, had no business in weapons manufacturing. Nevermind that Tony was an absolute genius, whiz, and could even give Howard a run for his money at the age of 14. Pretty early on his path in life had been decided. To the world he would act the Alpha. His Omega orientation would be kept secret by conditioning and suppressants that would hide his scent and Omega urges. He was never to reveal his true nature to anyone, and any work he did on behalf of the company would be done in secret and under an alias lest his true orientation be discovered and his omega status ruin them all. Because Omegas simply did not build weapons. Who would trust a rocket launcher dreamt up by a soft hearted omega? It was bullshit. Omega rights had made great strides since Howard and Obie's time, but they had both been stuck firmly in the past.

He had all but single handedly taken over the R/D department at Stark Industries and stunned the world and delighted the United States Military with his tech. Tech that might have had his name on it, but none of the credit was given to him. Perhaps that was what had rankled most. It was his genius that was keeping Stark Industries from failing, from going under. It was his tech that was wowing the world and winning contracts with the government. And yet the only accolades he was given was People's most handsome man of the year award (two years running, thank you very much).

Tony found freedom in his lab that he lacked everywhere else in the world. The freedom to simply be himself, his music blaring and new inventions coming to life beneath his fingers. Everything had been going swimmingly, if he did say so himself, until his old mentor and God father had tried to murder him and in the process put his tech, his weapons, into the hands of enemies. American soldiers being gunned down by black market Stark Industries weapons. Innocent lives lost and towns destroyed. No matter which way you sliced it, Tony was at fault. It was his weapons that had taken the lives of countless innocents. His name emblazoned on the side of those weapons that were killing the American Soldiers they were supposed to protect. He had been too wild, too carefree, too sure in how own genius and by far too trusting. He should have known better.

Putting Potts in charge as his acting CEO was probably the best move Tony could have made after he came back from Afghanistan and disbanded weapons manufacturing at SI. After everything that had gone down with Obie (the man who used to sneak him candy as a kid had literally tried to rip his heart out) Tony was finally able to focus on making the world a better place. Of course there was fall out with the press, backlash in the media, SI stock plummeted there for a bit, but Tony had been held back for years from choosing the projects that he thought would be most successful and with Obie out of the picture and Pepper at the helm he was free to work on what he deemed best for the company. For a while it was glorious. Tony could spend days, weeks, down in his workshop with the bots and Jarvis. He could focus solely on the things he was best at -which certainly had never been toeing the line and rubbing elbows with the upper echelon of society. He had no patience for his peers, no tact in the boardroom, or the endless press meetings that he was called to attend. Let Pepper deal with that shit. He could focus on trying to make the world a better place. Trying to redeem himself for the lives lost through his carelessness and naivety.

Things had been going well, at least in his mind. With Potts at the helm of Stark Industries they had been able to steer the company away from weapons development and towards more humanitarian technologies.

That is, until the late Obidiah Stane's last will and testament had revealed that Tony Stark was indeed an Omega. It went to show that Obie couldn't go to the grave unless he was sure that Tony had been utterly and completely ruined.

The press had a field day with that one. He had been raked over the coals. His every action when he had been CEO called into question. The merchant of death an Omega? Everywhere he turned his face was blasted across the media. The board of directors had been outraged. Even though it was the twenty-first century and Omega rights had come a long way from where they had once been, no one wanted an Omega in a position of power at a fortune 500 company. Omegas were supposed to be soft. They were teachers, nurses, artists, poets and creators. The only thing that Tony had created was death and destruction.

It didn't take long for his rights in the company to be stripped from him. Pepper tried her hardest to defend him, bless her heart, but the board of directors and their investors were relentless. They wanted Tony gone, or under control. Their lawyers had dug around and found some antiquated laws. Because Tony had lied to everyone about his second gender, he could be convicted in a court of law of breaking about a half dozen antiquated laws that the Omega Rights Movement had not yet been able to overturn. The board had given Tony a choice. Go to jail, or pick a mate from one of the list of bachelors the company had provided.

Tony ground his teeth together until his jaw ached with the stress of it. He couldn't afford to go to prison or to be locked away in some Omega facility. There were things that he still had to do, people that needed him, and he could not put himself in a position to let them down. So Tony had swallowed his pride and taken the list of Bachelors.

He knew that the board approved list of potential mates were all willing to work with Stark Industries to hobble the wayward Tony. His Mate would have his vote on the board, Tony's personal fortune (which was nothing to sneeze at) in his hands, and be able to either force Tony to create more weapons for Stark Industries, or stop him from creating anything at all.

All of his options were terrible. Tony went home after that ultimatum and straight into the bowels of his lab. He looked at the familiar and worn tables with the clutter of old coffee mugs. The scatter of papers and reference books that contained FIRST DRAFTS of potential projects. With a heavy heart Tony did what had to be done to years of his life. His work. His purpose.

He destroyed it. Once Stark Industries got their hands on his personal lab and notes, there would be too many conclusions they could draw that would lead them to places Tony wanted them nowhere near. He didn't want the bastards to have any of his tech. He couldn't afford for his weapons to once again fall into enemy hands. Jarvis and DUM-E were the only things left unscathed. Jarvis was incorruptible. And DUM-E? Well, Tony didn't have the heart to hurt the little guy, annoying as he was.

He had one shot at not completely ruining his life. He knew that there were at least 6 Alphas on the list that would use their right as his mate to strip him of his money and work. He'd find himself being put in charge (maybe) of the household and his only purpose in life would be to pop out little Alpha babies. But there was one name on that list that the board had put on there probably as a cruel joke. One name, one shot, of not having his company turned over to a minion of the board. One man who would never let Stark tech fall into the wrong hands. Captain Steven Rogers aka Captain America. There was just one problem.

Steve Rogers, rightly, hated his guts.

The board had prepared a ball. Everyone on that list would be in attendance. Perhaps with the intent to woo the infamous Tony Stark. Perhaps to gloat at the position the once powerful Omega now found himself in. In any case, Tony had eyes for only one person.

One big, blonde, stubborn asshole who was refusing to give him the time of day.

"Look" Tony's hand lashed out, curling across a forearm so broad that he couldn't wrap his fingers all the way around. He had to settle for clenching his hand in the fabric of Steve's tailored suit. For a moment he felt as if he were a small child again, tugging at his father's sleeves, begging for him to just listen for a second. It hadn't worked then, and it didn't seem to be working now.

"No Stark. It's not an option." Rogers jerked his arm away, turning those broad shoulders away and giving Tony his back.

Unfortunately for Tony's wounded pride, there was too much on the line for him to simply give up and walk away. Gritting his teeth he darted in front of his old nemesis, whiskey eyes snapping fire.

"Do you think for one second that I would be talking to you if I had another choice Rogers. Hey, no, listen to me." He said, side stepping into Rogers' path as the Captain once again tried to leave Tony behind. "Take a look around here Rogers. Realize who they have picked to partner me." Tony said in a harsh whisper, his eyes tracing the mulish frown of the man who held the future of his world in the palm of his hands.

"All of these assholes are willing to play ball with all of Obie's old supporters. You may not be familiar with them, but they are the guys responsible for Afghanistan and Iraq. All those missions you and your buddies go on-" Tony put up a stalling hand when Rogers' mouth opened to interrupt "yeah, I know all about those, that isn't the point. The point is the terrorists you're fighting against? They are armed with black market Stark. Industries. Tech. My tech. The tech I have been trying to stop from getting out there on the market. What do you think is going to happen when I am forced to mate one of these assholes?"

Tony stepped back, his hands fisting helplessly at his sides. "Look you read the contract. You know.." he swallowed quickly, eyes flashing away from Rogers' piercing blue. "You know that I won't have control of my accounts, my company. I'll have nothing except for what my mate deems it appropriate for me to have." He couldn't help the disgusted snarl that tore at the corners of his lips.

"You seem to still harbor some ill will there towards me Spangles. It's like 3 birds and one stone. Keep Stark tech off the black market. Have a small fortune at your hands to help rebuild your pack. Money to make investments so that they have a future. And get your old high school nemesis at your complete mercy - which is the last place he ever would want to be."

Steven Rogers stopped and regarded him fully. Tony could feel his spine trying to melt beneath the stare, not that he would ever let it show. As he had all of his life when faced with the penetrating stare of an Alpha, Tony faked it until he made it. His chin lifted and he met Steve's eyes boldly. It was hard to reconcile this man standing before him with the scrawny kid that he used to bully in high school.

"For someone who doesn't want to be under my thumb, Stark," Rogers drawled lazily, stance rigid "you do seem to be a little desperate. Afraid one of the other Alpha's are going to give you the comeuppance you so richly deserve?" Tony almost wilted at the thinly veiled resentment in the Captain's tone. He wasn't getting through to him.

Tony groaned, driving his fingers into his hair, tugging at the short strands in frustration. "Did you not hear a word I just said Rogers? This isn't about me or what I want. If it was, I wouldn't be standing in front of you. This." he said, taking a bold step into Steven Rogers' personal space "is about doing the right. Fucking. Thing. This is about innocent lives being lost if we make the wrong choice."

Rogers' eyes narrowed. "And what makes you so sure I'm the right choice, Tony? Maybe I made the cut for a reason. Maybe," this time it was Rogers stepping into his space, claiming the distance between them unflinchingly. Tony couldn't help but stumble backward, caught by a hard hand wrapping itself around his tie as quick as a snake and jerking him forward. " Maybe," he continued "it's about me watching you squirm. Making you beg. Because believe me Stark, I haven't forgotten what you said and did to me all those years ago. Maybe I do want you at my mercy. Maybe I do want you to suffer."

Tony swallowed thickly, knowing that he looked like a deer in headlights. But when Captain fucking America held you upright on your tiptoes to glower down at you - well, somethings you just couldnt hide.

"You want me to consider you as an Omega for my pack?" Steve leaned forward to whisper into his ear, his breath hot against Tony's neck.

"Get down on your knees and beg for it. Now."

Rogers released Tony so suddenly that he stumbled backwards in mute shock on his heels. He knew his face must be a mask of confusion. Everything he had heard about the infamous Captain Steven Rogers, everything he knew… this was just out of character for the boyscout, moral-oral, Alpha. And yet there he stood, strong arms folded across a broad chest and an implacable stare on his face.

Tony clenched his jaw. He knew that Rogers could make him get on his knees and beg, and then simply walk away. It would be no less than he deserved, Tony acknowledged grudgingly. He hadn't exactly been kind to the kid in highschool. In fact he had gone out of his way to make Rogers' life a living hell. It wasn't something that he was proud of, but Tony couldn't change the past. Any apology he would make now would seem flat and false. Empty. So he wasn't going to waste his breath with that shit.

The only thing that might work was proving to Rogers that he had changed. He wasn't a young kid who was wrapped up in his own ego and cruelty. If that star-spangled-asshole wanted him to get on his knees and beg for his consideration… fuck it.

Tony threw his shoulders back and met the Captain eyes boldly as he sunk to his knees gracefully in front of him. Tony knew the move was fluid and languid, as if he had practiced it hundreds of times. Because he had. One hundred times every night when he was growing up. He had been made to. Alpha in public but Omega at home. Tony was so fucked up it wasn't funny. It had gotten to the point where he didnt know what was a genuine facet of his personality or what had been ingrained there by Howard Stark.

The only plus to this was the sheer shock that flitted across Steven Rogers' face. A hush fell over the ballroom as people slowly began to turn and look at the scene unfolding in front of them. He could see Rogers' cheeks begin to pinken as the stares of hundreds of eyes found them, their curiosity piqued. Tony was used to being stared at. He was used to the cutting whispers and twitters, the looks both long and fleeting. This was the world he had been raised in, and while he didn't much care for it, it no longer bothered him. Nothing did.

Nothing mattered but keeping his tech out of enemy hands. Not his pride. Not his reputation. Nothing.

A gasp rolled through the crowd as Tony lolled his head to the side, jugular exposed. He knew that he was the textbook perfect picture of Omega submission. The curve of his neck, the cross of his ankles behind him, his hands palm up on his knees, legs spread just so.

Without moving a muscle, Tony raised his eyes to Steve's briefly before dropping them back down again.

"For your consideration, Alpha." Even his words were soft, deferential. Tony couldn't deny that inside of him there was a part of him squirming in humiliation.

Silence filled the ballroom. No one dared to interrupt the scene unfolding before them. The infamous Tony Stark. Strong, wild, headstrong Tony Stark being brought to a crushing submission in public. Not a soul in the ballroom would dare miss the train wreck taking place in front of them.

Minutes ticked by in absolute quiet. Tony could scarcely hear anything over the pounding of his own heart. What if this didn't work? What if the Captain walked away regardless of this display of submission? Despite everything? A true moment of panic struck Tony then, making it hard to breathe past the sudden lump in his throat. There were so many people who were counting on him. And here he was, despite his best efforts, failing again like he always did. Why was he like this? Why did absolutely everything he touched turn to such sh-

Tony was jerked out of his dark thoughts by a brutal hand in his hair, craning his neck farther to the side. His startled eyes flew up to the hard face of Steven Rogers, cheeks tinged just-so-slightly pink with discomfort. Tony snorted mentally at that. It was his idea after all. Did he think Tony wasn't sincere? That he wouldn't abase himself in front of a room full of strangers. Public humiliation was a favorite past time of the young Tony Stark. He had six sex tapes to prove it. Not that he was counting. Nope. And he was still waiting for the seventh and eighth to drop. But again, not counting.

"Get. Up. Now." Steve bit out tersely. Tony had to swallow the lump of nerves that jangled like broken shards of glass in his throat. Had it worked? Smoothly he rolled to his feet, short strands of inky black hair still caught captive in Rogers' steely grip.

"Yes, Alpha. As you wish, Alpha." Tony's voice was a practiced warm honey. Silky even with the slight twang of nerves that leaked out despite his best efforts. He had tried to force the words out sarcastically. That was not how they came out. Keeping his eyes down and averted like a good little Omega was a struggle that Tony didn't relish. There was nothing more that he would like to do than to look at Rogers' face and see if his gambit paid off.

"You have been considered Stark." Steve's hot breath fanned against his ear, making a shudder crawl involuntarily between his shoulder blades, tightening the skin there. "Have your contract on my desk tomorrow morning. You will deliver it yourself. We will go over my expectations then. Spoiler alert, Stark, you're not going to like them."

With that Captain Steven Rogers released him abruptly, then turned on his trim heel and strode through the stunned crowd like a hot knife through butter.

They weren't the only ones who were stunned. Perhaps as early as tomorrow Tony Stark would become the Omega mate of one Captain Steven Rogers, aka Captain America, who just so happened to still be carrying an eternal flame of burning hatred for him.

"Well, fuck me."